


Age-Play Avengers

by LittleFandomStories



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Play, Diapers, Infantilism, Non-Sexual Age Play, Team as Family, caretaker Coulson, little Avengers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 17:59:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4109946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleFandomStories/pseuds/LittleFandomStories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Avengers were a powder keg living in that tower. Good thing Coulson handled it, even if it meant Age play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea wouldn't leave me alone, so I wrote it out. It's not a planned thing, just a place to put some drabbles when they come to me. Enjoy, and let me know what you think.

There were days when Phil Coulson wished he had taken a vacation after the Battle for New York instead of returning to the Avengers. He knew he was needed, them living in Stark's tower was essentially a powder keg, but some days it was easier to conduct a HYDRA raid than settle the Avengers. 

 

"'Tasha, that's mine!" Clint shouted as he ran after the grinning redhead, "дать его обратно!" 

 

Today was clearly one of those days. 

 

Steve, who normally would have stopped the two as soon as they started climbing up the scaffolding to continue the chase, was seated at the counter with Bruce and Tony. The two were finger painting, Bruce's calming and colorful swirls and lines contrasting with Tony's technical lines and details. 

 

"JARVIS, lights please."  

 

"Of course Phil." 

 

Everyone froze as the lights dimmed, looking up at Coulson. When they stopped, JARVIS turned the lights back up. 

 

"Thank you JARVIS. 'Tasha, Clint come here." 

 

The two spies had the decency to ashamed as they dropped down in front of Coulson. 

 

"Clint, what did she take?" 

 

"Bambi!" Clint stomped his foot, his voice whiny, "My elephant!" 

 

"Tasha, why did you take it?" 

 

"скучать." The redhead shrugged, "Wanted to play." 

 

"Was there a better way to get Clint to play?" Coulson kept his voice firm.  

 

Tasha was notorious for taking a inch and running for a mile. 

 

"Asked already." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, "He said no." 

 

"And what do we do when people say no?" 

 

"Leave them alone." She muttered. 

 

"Thats right. Now go get Bambi from where you hid him and give him back." 

 

Coulson wrapped a arm around Clint's shoulder as the blond watched Natasha disappear into the rafters  

 

"Did you use the potty today Clint?" 

 

Clint was the only one dancing around potty training, some days he would make it other days he wouldn't bother to try. 

 

The way he squirmed before answering the question told Coulson all he needed to know. 

 

"I tried." Clint mumbled, "Kinda made it." 

 

'Kind of made it' from Clint really only meant he didn't poop his pants. A look at Steve got him a confirmation that Clint wasn't lieing about that. 

 

"Good job. We'll keep trying okay?" 

 

"Uh huh." Clint nodded, still watching Tasha climb down. 

 

"Here Clint, sorry." Natasha mumbled as she handed the elephant back. 

 

"Thanks." Clint snatched the elephan and hugged it tight. 

 

"Alright, go play. Nicely." He warned, "food will be ready soon. No rafters or air vents." 

 

"Okay." They both chirped before scampering off to the other side of the room. 

 

Headspace or no headspace, those two were thick as thieves. Even if Tasha was a literal thief. With that fire put out, Coulson made his way over to the other three seated at the counter. Judging by the repetitive motions and relaxed posture, Bruce was hip deep in a meditative trance and Tony wasn't far behind him. It only took one look at Steve to see that the oldest of the group, usually anyway, wished to be over there playing with Clint and Tasha. 

 

"So," Coulson tilted Steve's head back and placed a kiss on his forehead, "how's Steve today?" 

 

"Bored." Steve mumbled, his head still tilted back, "They didn't sleep last night, they were in the labs, and they wouldn't nap. I've been here with them since lunch." 

 

"Then go play for a bit Steve. I'll sit with them for now. I'm sure they're almost done." 

 

"Are you sure?" Steve bit his lip, eyes still on Coulson, "You just got home..." 

 

"And sitting here is the perfect way to relax. Go play kiddo." 

 

Despite his reluctance, Steve hopped to his feet with a quick 'thank you' and scurried across the room to go play. He also called back a 'sorry' as he dived over the couch instead of going around it. 

 

Coulson smiled as he sat down, loosening his tie and rolling his sleeves up. If the age play was helping Natasha learn how to be herself and proper social interaction, and Clint to truly relax, it was teaching Steve to put himself before others. Slowly, but he encouraged a little bit of selfishness in the super-soldier. He needed it. 

 

"Alright you two. You going to tell me why you didn't take naps today?" 

 

Tony shrugged before holding his paper up, "Look!" 

 

"I see it Anthony, it's very nice." Coulson couldn't decipher everything, but knew enough to know it was a base schematic for the Ironman suit, "But can you answer my question?" 

 

"No." That was, of course, Anthony's favorite word. 

 

"No you can't or no you don't want to?" 

 

"No." Anthony shrugged and reached for the paint again. 

 

"No more paint." Coulson pulled the plate of paint out of his reach, "Time to wash hands." 

 

That bought Coulson enough time to see to Bruce, Anthony took forever washing his hands by himself. Mostly because he was entertained for hours passing his hands under the stream. 

 

Luckily JARVIS knew when to turn the water off. 

 

"Hi Bruce." Coulson smiled as Bruce rubbed his eyes, "No nap today huh?" 

 

Bruce shook his head, sending curls everywhere. 

 

"Can you tell me why? Anthony didn't feel like sharing." Coulson started rubbing his back.  

 

Bruce was notorious for being drowsy when he came out of meditating. Coulson took it as a sign of him being comfortable, considering he used to snap all the way back to being Dr. Banner in the beginning. 

 

"'Ver tired." Bruce mumbled, leaning into the touch, "No sleep." 

 

"Ahh. You were over tired and couldn't fall asleep? That stinks. Let's go wash your hands too okay?" 

 

Bruce made no effort to move, forcing Coulson to grab a wet rag and do it for him. He was going to be lucky if Bruce made it through dinner. Anthony too, judging by how he was blinking. 

 

The more Anthony blinked, the closer he was to sleeping. 

 

"JARVIS, when were these two changed last?" Coulson asked, gathering Bruce into his arms. 

 

He wasn't Steve, who could lift and carry both of the youngest, but he could carry Bruce. The man's metabolism kept him lighter than Natasha. Anthony grabbed his hand as he started walking.  

 

"They were changed shortly before you returned Phil." JARVIS responded, putting a screen on Coulson's free side, "as you can see, today has been a slow day." 

 

"I can see that. Thank you JARVIS." Coulson sat down, Bruce curled on his lap, "please keep an eye out for the food, it should be here anytime now." 

 

He couldn't announce that he had decided to do pizza, Clint was notorious for ambushing delivery people and it had taken some maneuvering on Coulson's part to keep the business from denying deliveries to the Tower.. 

 

"Of course. I also feel it is relevant to inform you that Clint, Tasha, and Steve are using the Nerf guns." 

 

Coulson shook his head as he wrapped an arm around Tony, "Away from anything breakable I hope. And make sure they stay on the ground please." 

 

With JARVIS giving an affirmative, Coulson finally allowed himself to relax a bit. Trying to keep Anthony and Bruce awake was a losing battle, Bruce was already snoring lightly against his chest and Anthony had stopped fidgeting. 

 

He supposed they would just have to eat when they woke up. 

 

In an ideal world the two youngers would follow the vague outline of Coulson's schedule. However no plan has ever survived meeting an Avenger, let alone the two curled up on him. The most he could do is temper their bad habits and do damage control. The cuddling was a bonus. 

 

That's why he loathed to get up when JARVIS pinged him about the food moments later. But he got up and brought Steve with him, firmly telling Tasha that she and Clint were not to wake Anthony and Bruce. 

 

"What's the matter Steve?" Coulson asked as the elevator doors closed.

 

"It's nothing." Steve mumbled as he fiddled with his shirt.

 

"What's rule two Steve?" Steve never fiddled with his shirt unless something was wrong. 

 

"No lies."

 

Avengers, Coulson learned, were very adept liers. He had nipped that problem in the bud early on. 

 

"So what's the matter?" 

 

Steve was quiet and Coulson noted the elevator was progressing slower than usual. He would have to thank JARVIS later.

 

"I feel more like Captain Rodgers than Steve." Steve finally admitted, moving closer to Coulson, "I don't like it. Help please, Phil."

 

Coulson nodded, hugging the other man, "how about later, when everyone else is asleep, we'll sit together and play a game or watch a movie? To make sure you get all the Steve time you need."

 

Steve nodded, pressing his face into Coulson's shoulder. It was rare, Coulson knew, that Steve really wanted time to be little. He was normally content to be the oldest: stopping Tasha from stealing things, playing with Clint, cuddling with Bruce and Anthony, taking people to the potty and changing diapers. He enjoyed being 'Phil's Best Helper' more than anyone.

 

Today was just one of those rare days when Steve wanted to be held, cuddled, and not responsible for anyone. Coulson was never one to turn down cuddling.

 

Coulson did notice that, through dinner, Steve kept a bounce in his step. His inattention nearly started a food fight, Tasha framing Clint for throwing a crust at a drowsy Anthony. Steve had looked content as Coulson worked out that argument, happy with his job of coaxing a drowsy Bruce into eating.

 

Steve could be a snot, Coulson decided as he calmed Clint down.

 

It was hours later when Coulson, now in pajama pants and a faded band shirt, found Steve curled up on the couch waiting for him. The Bucky bear Coulson managed to find for Steve was held close and the handmade blanket was wrapped around him.

 

"So," Coulson sat down and instantly had an armfull of Steve, "what are we watching kiddo?"

 

Clint and Tasha loved Brave. Bruce and Anthony would watch Jurassic Park all day no matter how little they were feeling. Steve was fickle, he didn't like violence and gunfire, and buddy movies were out too.

 

"Aladdin."

 

"Good pick." Coulson nodded as JARVIS played the movie, "One of your favorites huh?"

 

Steve nodded, already giggling at the peddler in the beginning. Steve loved Disney when it wasn't too sad. He still got upset at Lion King, so he wasn't allowed to watch it anymore, and openly cried at some of the sadder moments. 

 

Every bad day, Coulson decided as he made himself comfortable, had its high points.

 

And Steve singing with Disney was definitely one of those high points.


	2. Potty

"I need to go potty."

The message came through the private communication channel, something Coulson was immensely greatful for, but it didn't stop each member of the Avengers listening in from pausing what they were doing for a breath.

Which was very bad in the middle of an A.I.M raid with a giant battle armor powering up to take them down.

"Focus!" Coulson snapped as an A.I.M grunt fired a shot that nearly took Hawkeye's head off.

The archer rolled out of the way, firing a taser arrow as he moved. Surveying the field he drew back an explosive arrow and launched it at a generator, blowing it up.

"Target one down."

"Good. Go help Widow with targets two and three." Coulson directed, "does anybody have eyes on the Captain."

"I'm kind of," there was a grunt followed by a snapping sound, "busy Coulson. Eyes on three."

"Hawkeye is on two. Stark?"

"Sure, I'll fly away from the people shooting lasers at me to find our wayward Captain. Aren't you the one who always warns me about going off mission?" Coulson could hear the eye roll in Stark's voice, "Best bet is he's dropping his pants behind a tree."

"Big guy, any eyes on the Captain?"

The roar that echoed in response made Coulson's ears ring, "anybody got a translation?"

"Big green says No. No eyes on target four and this thing is powering up."

"Find me Cap." Coulson ordered one of the analysts in the room, "Hulk, Stark, get in there and take that machine out."

There was a grunt and a sarcastic remark Coulson actively chose to ignore as the two heavy hitters stopped playing and forced their way inside. Coulson made a note to reinforce how good of a job Hulk was doing when he got a chance. Positive reinforcement went a long way.

"Steve, where are you?"

"I need to go potty." came the response.

"I'll take you as soon as the mission is over." Coulson stressed under his breath, "But we need to finish the mission first."

"I really have to go." there was a tinge of desperation in his voice.

"Then take out the stupid target four so we can blow up the stupid robot." Widow growled, her accent creeping into her voice.

Coulson groaned, it was like a house of cards: once one went they all started.

"Don't worry Natasha, we still love you with your hair short." Hawkeye reassured his partner.

" _Chertov_ lasers." 

"Language." Coulson chided on reflex, "Steve get the fourth target. Please."

"I have to go potty." Coulson heard the foot stomp, which meant he was at least inside the building.

Knowing Steve, the man was probably standing right next to the target before the current problem arose.

"Why didn't you go before we left for the mission?"

"Yeah, like everyone else." Stark chimed in.

"I didn't have to." Steve insisted.

"Yeah! And not everyone can pee in their suit Tony." Hawkeye shot back, "Only you can get away with that."

There was a moment of silence before an explosion echoed across all the comms.

"Target four is down." Captain America sounded off, "Hawkeye, Ironman, you need to aim for the lasers. Widow, the main cameras. Hulk, I need you to take the joints out. Everyone know the plan?"

Coulson breathed a sigh of relief as the Captain rallied the team to finish the mission. He was the best asset Coulson had for keeping the team in their mission mind. Well, when Thor wasn't there to do it.

* * *

 

Coulson greeted his team with a raised eyebrow as they boarded the jet. Stark had decided he wanted to fly home, to avoid the talk Coulson had planned about peeing in his suit. Natasha and Clint slid into the pilots' seats, flipping switches and speaking softly in a provincial Russian dialect that Clint spoke through his nose.

"Steve, did you find a potty?" Coulson asked as he carefully pulled the mask off the other man's head.

"I went potty." Steve stated, not quite looking the other man in the eyes.

"Well, that's good." Coulson nodded, "Next time we'll make sure you go before we leave okay?"

Steve nodded before taking his seat, gently running his fingers over his shield. It had some scratches on the paint that needed to be fixed.

Coulson was helping Bruce strap himself in, something about the change affected his fine motor skills, when the smell hit him.

"Alright, who pee'd?" he asked, his hand already patting Bruce's thighs for any wet spots.

"It wasn't me this time!" Clint swore from his spot in the cockpit, "I'm dry!"

Coulson raised an eyebrow in Natasha's direction, asking subtly if it was her. Her response was a withering glare and Coulson having to catch the tool she threw at his head.

He knew it wasn't her, but stranger things had happened.

His eyes landed in Steve as the jet reached crusing altitude. The blond squirmed in his seat, keeping his eyes focused on his shield.

"Steve," Coulson started, "is there something you need to tell me?"

"I had to go potty." Steve mumbled, "Really bad."

"Did you have an accident?"

Steve shook his head, deciding now was a good time to hide behind his shield.

"No? Can you tell me what happened?" Coulson encouraged.

"I had to go potty." Steve mumbled, "Really bad. And we needed to finish the mission. And they got talking about peeing in their pants and…"

"You peed in your pants." Coulson finished, taking the seat next to Steve.

He ignored that Natasha punched Clint when the other boy started to giggle.

"I know I'm not supposed to but it was urgent." Steve kept the shield between himself and Coulson.

"I understand Steve. Just next time you have to go before we go on a mission." Coulson explained gently.

"Okay."

"Lets get you out of your wet stuff and into something clean." Coulson moved the shield and helped the taller man stand up.

"Can you help?" Steve asked shyly, "Wet and clingy."

"Sure thing kiddo, sure thing."

* * *

 

All it took was one look from Coulson to send Tony scurrying to his lab before he could comment about Steve's wardrobe change.

The Mickey mouse shirt and sweatpants were Steve's notorious little clothes.

"Natasha, leave your hair alone. Me or Pepper will come help you fix it. And Clint, I want to see you on the potty before you go run off and hide somewhere. I know you were thinking about if, so don't." Coulson shouted after the two spies as the darted out of the jet.

Bruce was asleep on Coulson's back, snoring lightly as he was carried into the tower.

"Phil." Steve's voice was quiet, his face still a little red.

"Yes Steve?"

"I'm not that little. Or a baby." Steve mumbled, eyes darting around, "It just kind of…happened."

"It goes like that sometimes." Coulson shrugged as best hebcould, "You could always talk to Clint or Bruce about it."

"Its not like that. I just…don't want you to treat me any different than normal."

"JARVIS, door please." Coulson asked nicely, "And you know I never would unless you asked me to. Or needed me too."

"Okay." Steve let out a sigh of relief, "Good."

The pair walked in silence as Coulson made his way to the main living room, gently dropping Bruce off on the couch. Steve politely accepted the cup of tea Coulson offered him, adding more sugar than normal.

"And Steve, you can take that pull up off just as soon as you're ready to put underwear back on." Coulson smiled gently, "the rule is no going without underwear and that was the only kind on the jet."

"Not to mention Clint was going to throw a fit because he has to have one when he pees his pants." Steve smiled a little, "Too tired to listen to him scream."

"Uh huh. But like I said, any time you're ready to out underwear on."

"Maybe…" Steve's face went red again, "I'll try something new today."

"New things are good." Coulson agreed.

"Phil, I believe your attention is required in the locker room. Clint is demanding your presence." JARVIS spoke up, "And Natasha is attempting to fix her own hair."

Coulsin rose to his feet with a sigh, placing his cup in the sink, "My work is never done."

Steve bit back a giggle as Coulson pressed a kiss into his hair on his way out.

"Shall I put in a order of pull ups for Steve, Phil?" JARVIS asked as Coulson walked his way down the hall.

"Yes, but don't let him know. And dial up pepper please. I need her help with Natasha's hair."


	3. Thorsday

Coulson heard the clap of thunder well before anyone else in the tower; he was on the balcony going over some reports. Tony would be the last to hear it down in the labs, Clint and Tasha were sparring in the gym and the rest of the world could wait as far as they were concerned, and Steve was exploring the idea of napping with Bruce.

Tony had nearly thrown a jealous fit when they finally got Steve to admit he didn't need more than and hour or two of sleep a night to function.

Coulson set his tablet down with a contented sigh, rising to greet his wayward team member.

"Phillip, Son of Coul!" Thor's voice boomed as he landed, "It is good to see you again."

"Thor, Son of Odin." Coulson returned the greeting, "Welcome back to Earth. How have you been?"

The blond embraced Coulson tightly, "I've been well. Fighting battles, defending Asgard, adventuring."

"Hunting bilgesnipes I suppose?" Coulson returned the hug, ignoring the creaking of his ribs.

"Nay, not this time." Thor stepped back, "Where are the rest of our companions?"

"Inside, relaxing. Bruce was taking a nap last I checked." Coulson collected his tablet, "Lets go dig out your clothes and we'll see what they're up to."

Coulson led the way, Thor following silently. The Asgardian had been there in the beginning as Coulson fought to keep the splintering team together. Thor had, where others had been hesitant or indifferent or outright against age play, met the idea with his usual boundless enthusiasm.

Coulson would dare to say that it might have been a much tougher road had Thor not been there.

They didn't even make it to Thor's room before they were found out.

"Thor!"

Steve barreled down the hall at full speed, leaping at other blond with more force than he would ever use out of combat.

Thor caught him easily, "Steven! How have you been! I have missed much."

Steve didn't respond, content to wrap himself around the other man. It was rare that someone could pick him up, let alone hold him, so he was going to soak this up as much as possible.

"Steve," Coulson spoke up after a few moments and a confused look from Thor, "Thor needs his street clothes on first. And you said you wanted to take a nap."

"Ah, every mighty warrior needs a nap Steven." Thor added, "Go and rest so we may play later."

"You promise?" Steve asked as he disentangle himself from Thor.

"Yes. Now go." Thor clapped the smaller man on the back, "I am long overdue for a change of clothes."

Steve wrinkled his nose, "Did you pee?"

"No, but I did fight an angry horde of Ogres and I have yet to change my clothes."

Steve sniffed experimentally, gagging slightly when his enhanced senses picked up the smell. With his mind made up, and a gentle shove from Coulson, Steve padded off down the hall in the direction he came from.

"Jane let you into her appartment without cleaning up? She's changed." Coulson commented as he held the foot open.

"No, she hasn't. But the stench of dead ogres lingers longer in clothing than you would expect. I imagine it smells rather fresh to young Steven."

Coulson chuckled as he moved in tandem with the Asgardian, Thor stripping his clothes as Coulson laid out street clothes. The Asgardian, unlike his teammates, wasn't little and would refuse most help with getting dressed.

Coulson pulled out a hair tie and pulled Thor's hair back into a bun, safely out of reach of vicious little hands. Natasha and Clint were vicious and Thor couldn't stand having his hair pulled.

"Shall we seek out our companions Philip?" Thor rose to his feet, tugging at his shirt.

"I have a better idea. How do you feel about pizza?"

"Young Darcy had me try it once." Thor made a face, "I care not for anchovies or black olives."

Coulson shook his head as he led Thor out of the room, "We don't have to put them on if you don't want to."

"Excellent."

* * *

 

The first pizza, with enough meat and cheese that 'meatlover' didn't do it justice, was in the oven when Clint dropped down onto the counter.

"Tonight isn't pizza night." the archer frowned, "Yesterday was pizza night."

Coulson pulled the cheese away from Thor before he could use it all, "Its a special occasion. And we can't have pop tarts for dinner."

"Who would want pop tarts--" Clint spun around, "Thor!"

"Hello young Clint!" Thor's laugh rumbled as Clint launched himself at him, "Have you been behaving?"

"Yeah!" Clint exclaimed over Coulson's snort, "I even used the potty this morning!"

"Truly?" Thor grinned, "Perhaps if you hurry and go now you would be able to help make pizza."

"Really?" Clint glanced at Coulson, who nodded, "Awesome! I'll be right back, don't let Tasha ruin it!"

Clint tore out of the room at top speed, ignoring Coulson's call to not run, as Thor scanned around the kitchen. His hand snapped out faster than Coulson's eyes could track, catching Tasha's hand before it could yank on his hair.

"Is that any way to greet your shield-brother?" Thor chided gently, keeping a form grip on her wrist.

Tasha's glare held a little more Widow in it then Coulson had ever seen grace his little girl's face, "You left, оставлять."

"He didn't abandon us." Coulson supplied as Thor struggled with the translation, "He had to go home."

"Главная. отец. спать." Thor's tongue fumbled over the words.

Tasha snorted and Widow left her eyes, "Your accent, говно."

"Language Tasha." Coulson chided lightley, hiding his amusement carefully.

Tasha's grin was vicious as her other hand darted forward and yanked hard on one of Thor's loose hairs, causing him to hiss and spit out several Asgardian curses as Tasha skittered away into the vents with a chuckle.

"I hate it when she does that." Thor managed to get out in English after a few moments.

"She's finally started on feeling upset." Coulson explained as he moved to redo Thor's hair, "She just hasn't mastered it yet. But it is progress."

"If only that progress wasn't so painful." Thor grumbled.

Coulson chuckled, "You take a fist to the face from Hulk and come up smiling, but your hair gets tugged and you're a wreck. If only your enemies knew."

"I cannot smash my friends with Mjolnir." Thor stated, "My enemies do not get the same mercy.

"I went potty, and washed my hands!" Clint thundered into the room and leapt onto the counter, "I want to make pizza now!"

Thor laughed and lifted the smaller man off the counter, "That is not the proper pizza making chair Clint. You can reach everything from your chair."

Clint wriggled until he firmly planted himself on Thor's lap.

"Pizza!"

"Of course. Shall we begin with sauce?"

"Duh. _Everyone_ knows that goes first!"

Coulson sat back and watched as the two debated the qualities, and quantities, of various toppings. It was good to have Thor home.

Though he did wonder where Clint left his pants this time, but couldn't bring himself to interrupt to ask.

Yet.

* * *

 

"Raise the power output by 40%. That should solve the problem."

Stark paid no attention to anyone else in the kitchen as he moved towards the fridge, keeping an eye on the simulations JARVIS was running for him.

"As you can see sir, that does not work. The materials cannot handle the increased output." JARVIS responded, the suit on the display showing critical errors, "Might I suggest a different material."

"Suggest away Hal." Stark rummaged through the fridge, "Where's my leftovers from Tuesday? I put my name on it when everything."

"Bottom shelf, on the left. But we're cooking dinner now if you'd rather wait."

Stark jumped, but managed not to swear, "JARVIS, how many times have I said not to let me walk into a crowded room without noticing?"

"Fourteen, sir."

"Smart butt." Stark grumbled as he closes the fridge, "How's the world today Phil? Anything blowing up?"

"Not that isn't classified or in your shop." Coulson shot back.

"Good, I don't have time for that today. And why do I smell pizza? Yesterday was pizza night."

"Because pizza is awesome, duh." Clint replied, still secure in his place on Thor's lap.

"I'm sure you're all aquiver with excitement Robin hood." Clint giggled as Stark caught sight of Thor, "And Goldilocks is in town too? And nobody told me? JARVIS, I'm ashamed of you."

"I thought you would enjoy the surprise." JARVIS replied, a small amount of humor showing up in his voice.

"Well, I would love to stay, catch up, and make a wonderful buffalo wing pizza but this project can't wait. Pepper needs a working model to show the board tomorrow." Stark shook his head, "But I can definitely afford to take a break in what, an hour or two? So yeah, I'll be up then."

Coulson snagged Stark as he walked by, pressing a kiss onto his forehead, "Be careful Tony. Don't set your lab on fire. Or yourself."

"Don't do that Phil, I don't have time for that." Stark squirmed away, "I'll be safe. No fires this time."

"It's the 'this time' that worries me." Coulson muttered as Stark strode out the room.

"How does one make a buffalo wing pizza?" Thor asked, his eyebrows knitted together, "I did not know midgardian buffalos had wings."

"Chicken, cheese, hot sauce. I think." Clint had already scrambled off of Thor and onto the counter, inspecting the cupboards for hot sauce.

"Remember Clint, everyone has to be able to eat it. No burning people's mouths." Coulson warned as he grabbed the boy's shirt.

Clint looked down at him and pouted, "Where's the fun in that?"

"On the top shelf to the right, in the back." Coulson replied, "Hand me Bruce's tea tin while you're up there kiddo."

* * *

 

Coulson was pouring Bruce's tea into his cup right as the smaller man shuffled into the room. He sniffed once and darted over to Coulson, gingerly snatching the cup out of his hands.

"Thank you." Bruce said when he finally put the cup down, "Pizza? Was yesterday."

"We have made several." Thor beamed, "Despite this little imp's attempts to ruin them."

Clint giggled and squirmed as Thor poked him in the ribs, his arms barely missing the half empty containers scattered across the counter.

"Good nap Bruce?" Coulson offered up the teapot for a refill.

"Yes." Bruce nodded, passing the cup back to Coulson.

He didn't want to fumble with the lid of the porcelain sippy cup right now anyway.

"Where's Steve?" Coulson paused his pouring, "and your pacifier."

"Shared with Steve." Bruce shrugged, staring intently at the teapot until Coulson resumed his pouring.

"Why did Steve want to share your pacifier?"

Bruce shrugged, taking his cup and planting himself on the counter to drink it. Coulson wanted to press him for more answers but if Bruce didn't volunteer the information it wasn't worth trying to pry it out of him.

Especially when there was no more tea.

 

"Hey, look who I found on my way up." Stark called out as he strode into the room, "Shuffling around like he was lost."

Coulson paused in his explanation to Clint about why he needed shorts on to eat, turning his attention towards the door. Behind the grease covered Stark stood a droopy eyed, half asleep Steve; his hair spiked up on one side, his pants were sagging, and Bruce's second favorite green pacifier was secured in his mouth.

"Morning buddy. Good nap?" Coulson grinned, beckoning him over.

His inattention meant he missed Tasha dropping down next to Clint, passing him something brightly colored that made the boy giggle.

Ignoring the happenings around him, Stark made his way over to where Bruce was cuddled up on Thor's lap; the Asgardian was telling stories from across the other seven realms.

"Goldilocks, Bruce!" Stark spread his arms, "Hug?"

Bruce gave him a once over, his brown eyes tinged with green, "No. Yucky."

"I am not yucky. I am awesome." Stark folded his arms, "Some even call me handsome."

Bruce sniffed once and wrinkled his nose, "You stink."

"Aye," Thor chuckled, "You do not smell pleseant my friend. Perhaps you should wash up before you eat."

"Make me."

With one simple phrase Stark was gone, in his place was the much more mischevious Tony; who's defiant grin challenged Thor.

"That I shall." Thor rose to the challenge, placing Bruce in his chair.

"What's up kiddo?" Coulson asked as he clipped the pacifier onto Steve's shirt.

"'M tired." Steve mumbled around the pacifier, "Woke up early."

"It's okay, you were trying out naps today anyway." Coulson rubbed his back, "You're supposed to fall asleep."

Steve shrugged, leaning forward until his head rested on Coulson's shoulder. He always thought naps were supposed to leave him rested for the day, not miserable and exhausted. The worst part, as far a Steve was concerned, was that he was wet and couldn't remember when he did it.

On top of everything else he couldn't tell Coulson because everyone else was around and he didn't want Tony, or Clint, or even Tasha to know. It was too embarassing to consider and harder to explain away, unlike the pacifier.

Everyone knew Bruce likes to share, so nobody needs to know that he asked about it.

"I'm hungry!" Clint leapt up onto the table wearing one of Tasha's brightly colored tutus, "I want to eat! Now!"

Steve laid his head on the counter as Coulson shot to his feet to intercept the archer.

"Clint Francis Barton, don't you dare touch those ovens!"

* * *

 

Thor sighed contentedly as he sagged into the couch, keeping an eye on young Steven who fought to keep his eyes open. He could still hear the raging chaos in the kitchen as Philip attempted manage the storm.

A wise warrior knew when to stay and fight, and when to retreat.

He kept the volume on the T.v. low as he searched for something interesting to watch, not wanting to disturb his companion. He was torn between a movie baring his own name or one about something called a 'sharknado' when he felt something warm spread across his legs.

A glance downward showed that young Steven had, in fact, finally fallen asleep. It was a good thing, Thor considered as he carefully rose to his feet, because the boy would be embarrassed to find out what had happened.

The process of changing one of his young friends was not unfamiliar to the Asgardian, Philip had walked him through the process several times with a very patient Bruce. What confused him was the lack of box for young Steven at the changing station.

Everyone had a box with nessecary extras in it: Clint had a purple one with pull-ups, underwear, and a small crossbow; Tony (red) and Bruce (green) had extra diapers, spare pacifiers, and clean pants in theirs; Tasha had a black one with fake spiders, a hair tie, one pair of Clint's underwear, one of Bruce's noisy toys, and two pistols; Thor even had his own silver one with dozens of extra hair ties and a few unactivated phones.

And all of that was there, Tasha had stashed one of Clint's stuffed animals in hers this week, except for Steve's box.

"JARVIS," Thor called out after a moment of searching, "where is young Steven's box?"

"One moment." JARVIS paused, "It appears he has hidden it from the others. It is on the bottom shelf behind where the extra powder is kept. I will unlock it for you now."

Thor nodded as the lock clicked open, "Thank you JARVIS."

Careful not to knock any of the powder over, he knew from personal experience that the substance was an annoyance to clean, Thor removed the blue box from its hiding spot.

Inside the box was some extra pants, underwear, a pack of colored pencils, and a stack of pull-ups. Nothing unusual as far as Thor was concerned, but he also knew that young Steven enjoyed his privacy a bit more than the rest of their family.

"Privacy indeed." Thor muttered to himself as he started taking the sleeping boy's pants off, "You midgardians have a strange concept of the word."

 

It was hours later, with everyone else in bed, that Coulson handed one of the beers he was carrying to Thor as he sat down.

"So how long are you staying for?" Coulson asked after taking a drink.

He was never allowing anyone near hot sauce ever again.

"A few months at best." Thor replied, "With Father awake and his power restored to its peak, Asgard can afford my absence for some time. Though Jane and Darcy have already called 'dibs' on several weeks, for a vacation."

"Sounds like fun."

"It will be a different kind of experience than the fun I have here." Thor nodded in agreement, "Less crying and potty breaks, or so I've been told."

Coulson laughed, "Yes, our breed of insanity isn't quite the norm on Midgard. I'm glad you have plans though."

The pair sat in silence for a few moments before the T.v. turned itself on.

"Thor," Coulson asked slowly, "Why are we watching _Sharknado_?"

Thor's eyes lit up, "A storm of sharks sounds interesting. But I could not watch it earlier with the others around."

Coulson sighed, taking a long drink from his beer, "I'm going to need another beer for this."

"Hopefully you have plenty, for JARVIS tells me there are three movies to watch." Thor's grin was huge as he watched the opening credits.

Coulson decided that he was going to get JARVIS back for this, one way or another.


	4. Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has them, but everyone handles them differently.

Clint Barton was having a terrible day. Scratch that, he was having a terrible week. He was on a solo assignment in the jungles of South America, which was nothing unusual for him as one of SHIELD's premiere assets, but this mission has gone south relatively quickly.

Having Natasha on this mission would have been great he decided while ducking behind a tree to avoid a hail of gunfire.

Barton fired his last explosive arrows into the engine block of the closest jeep and used the explosion as cover to dive into the nearby raging river. He had never been so glad for the SHIELD tech that protected the intel as he tried his best to avoid slamming into the rocks jutting out of the water.

The good news was he was away from the enemy.

The bad news was that he's stuck in a raging South American river with no survival gear.

Agent Barton was cursing both his superiors and the half-assed Intel he had been given as he struggled onto the shore, every muscle screaming in protest.

Clint really wanted a hot bath, his stuffed animals, and his sestra.

Either way, he needed to get away from the shore and as far away from the hissing caymins as he could.

Phil would have had stern words with him about the words that left his mouth as he darted through the jungle in search of suitable shelter.

  
Agent Barton was exhausted as he settled into his safe haven for the night. Not that he had any plans to sleep, he was being hunted by the enemy and sleeping in the jungle was a terrible idea, but he just needed a hour or two to rest before resuming his mad dash to his retrieval point.

He had until 0600 before SHIELD would disavow him and Coulson would send in the Avengers to extract him.

He would never hear the end of it if that happened.

Feeling tears well up in his eyes as he carefully watched the darkness around him, Agent Barton tightened his self control and sat up straighter. He couldn't afford to be little Clint right now, no matter how much it tore him apart to squash that part of himself down.

With that in mind, Barton slung his bow across his back and climbed down from his safe spot. He had to get moving now before the bugs and snakes found him.

Again.

* * *

  
It was 20:00 when the cloaked quinjet landed in the clearing, much to Barton's annoyance. If he hadn't been out of arrows he would have stuck one in the opening mechanism of the doors out of spite.

Seriously, who was late for a pick-up on a important mission like this? What did they do, forget?

He banished that thought as fast as he could, he couldn't start crying right now.

When the Black Widow stalked her way down the ramp, dressed in full combat gear and her eyes carefully sweeping the forest line, Barton knew something was up.

Or the Widow stole the jet to come get him. Both options were possible.

Barton stood up from his hiding spot and the Widow spotted him immediately, the pair moving towards each other as fast as possible.

"сестра." Clint latched onto her, ignoring protocol for the sake of physical contact.

"младший брат" the Widow sighed, hugging him tight as she kept an eye out for any trouble.

"What's the situation? Pick up is late." Barton asked once he got himself under control and freed himself from Widow's grasp.

"Your handler forgot to file paperwork." Widow pushed him towards the jet, "Coulson is handling it now, with full clearance from Fury."

Barton barked out a laugh he boarded, "That guy is going to be level 0, scrubbing toilets, and answering to the review board by the time Coulson is done. Serves him right."

Widow shook her head as she followed behind him, "He deserves worse."

And if she had her way that was exactly what was going to happen.

* * *

  
By the time Clint made it home he was sick of flying, sick of people, and had never been so happy to see Steve in his life.

"Hey buddy…"

That was all he managed to get out before Clint launched himself into the larger man's arms, squeezing him tight.

"Its okay," Steve rubbed his back gently, "it's okay. You're home now."  
  
Despite being completely wrapped up in consoling Clint, Steve didn't miss Natasha slipping off of the jet; She caught his eye and shook her head as she dropped down into one of the grates. He would have to find her later if he could get Clint calmed down enough.

"'M tired, an itchy, an sweaty, an snakes bit me, an yucky, an I don't want my uniform on anymore, an no more underwear, an my pants are wet. I don't wanna be big anymore. I want Phil." Clint babbled into Steve's chest, "I want Phil, an you, an Sestra. Don't let me be alone. Please, please, please."

"I'm not going to leave you alone kiddo." Steve planted a kiss on Clint's head as he started into the tower, "Phil will be back in a little bit and Nat will be around as soon as she puts herself back together. So let's go get you cleaned up? How does a bath sound?"

"Fuckin' wonderful." Clint sighed, "With lots an lots of bubbles? And one of those funny things you put in them that makes the water turn cool colors? An the crayons? Oh, an my duckies. We can't forget those."

"Maybe. I think you have one of those ball things Pepper got you for your birthday left."

"Yeah! I do! Can I use the pokeball for my bath?! Please, please, please!"

"Only if you watch your language from here on out." Steve gave Clint a stern look, "You know the rules."

Phil's rule five was no foul language from or around anybody Little.

"Yes Steve. 'M sorry."

"Don't do it again. JARVIS would have to tell Phil if you did." Steve winked as the elevator door closed.

* * *

  
It was Banner who found Natasha holed away in the training room. Steve was occupied with Clint and his bath, Tony had been put down for his mandatory nap, and Phil was dealing with the errant SHIELD handler who messed up Clint's paperwork.

Which left Banner as the only one to track down his fractured sister and help her put herself back together.

He stood by the door as Natasha worked out her aggression with one of the newer training programs, her arms and legs swiftly striking the moving targets.

When all the targets were gone, because Natasha was still the Widow no matter how hard she tried, Banner made his presence known with a small cough.

"Nice work Nat," He smiled, "you beat Steve's high score and everything."

The glare hurt a bit, Banner would admit, but it cleared up as Natasha recognized him.

"Bruce." the smile stayed in her voice.

"Not quite, Nat." Banner jerked his thumb towards the door, "You uh, wanna take a walk?"

"Where to?" Natasha wrapped her arm around his.

"Wherever our feet take us."

They circled around the tower for a long while, enjoying the silence brought on by each other's company. Natasha was piecing herself together and Banner knew that his sister would guide them somewhere out the way when she was ready to talk.

He knew better than anyone what it was like trying to piece yourself together when some of those pieces had sharp edges.

Hulk snorted in the back of their head, insisting that his pieces were simply angrier.

Their meandering path took them through Phil's floor and to their caretaker's balcony.

"If you squint hard enough, you can see the little league games in central park from here." Banner commented as he took in the view.

Normally he was feeling more like Bruce when he was in Phil's room and was far more interested in the comfy bed or the memorabilia Pop-pop used to decorate.

Hulk rumbled in agreement, small hands were better for small things.

"Poor kids. Bet they don't even like baseball." Natasha commented as she leaned on the railing.

"Maybe they did once, but things change." Banner joined her, "Wanna talk about what happened?"

Natasha sighed, "It's not that he was disavowed, or some political red tape held up extraction, or he was captured, or any number of acceptable reasons for his extraction to be held up. No, he had to spend the night in a South American rainforest alone simply because some idiot paper pusher forgot to file a paper."

"And because of one idiot making a bureaucratic mistake my partner, my little brother, had to spend all that time thinking we forgot about him." Natasha looked up and, despite her tears, her eyes were all Widow, "He needs to pay."

"Nat," Banner slowly laid a hand on her shoulder, "He already is. Fury and Phil are both after him right now."

"That's not enough." the Widow hissed, "He wronged our family. It cannot go unpunished."

"Nat, I'm going to hug you."

Natasha stiffened as Banner wrapped his arms loosely around her shoulders. He knew he was playing with fire here, she could do anything from hug him back to jab a nerve cluster and take off into the vents.

Banner did his best to stifle his grin as she sagged into the hug.

"Don't worry," he whispered softly, "it's not just Coulson and Fury on the case, but Pop-pop too. So it's more then handled."

"See Clint." Tasha mumbled into his shirt, "See Clint now."

"Well, I don't see why not." Banner smiled, "But after you change clothes. You've got mission stink on you."

* * *

  
Clint was happy, very very happy. Steve gave him the best bath ever, he consented to the diaper for the night, Steve found his favorite footed pajamas, and he was allowed to bring his stuffed animals to the main room.

But he only brought half because he didn't feel like carrying any more.

His sippy cup also had Apple juice and the "stressful mission" shot of Rum in it.

He was dry, warm, insect free, and most importantly not alone.

Clint let out another sigh as he wriggled closet to Steve. The older-this-time boy was completely willing to cuddle Clint and he was taking complete advantage of it.

"You okay buddy?" Steve asked, "You need something?"

"Tasha." Clint mumbled, "Phil."

"I promise Tasha will be here just as soon as she's able to okay?" Steve rubbed small circles on Clint's back, "And Pop-pop will be back later."

Clint giggled, "You've been playing with Bruce lots."

Steve blushed a bit, "He helps. But tonight isn't about me, it's all you."

"Perfect." Clint nuzzled into him.

  
"младший брат."

A grin spread across Clint's face as he popped out of the pile of stuffed animals. 'Tasha sat perched on the coffee table, eyes staring into Clint's.

"сестра! I missed you!" he threw his arms around her neck and tugged her into the pile with him.

Clint was the only one who could get away with touching her like that, big or little. He managed to wrap himself around her, his head resting on Tasha's chest.

"Sorry. Not myself. смешанный." 'Tasha rubbed her cheek on the top of Clint's head.

"You're here now and that's all I need." Clint nodded.

"Baby." she mumbled.

"Toddler." he corrected.

"спать." 'Tasha insisted, "Going nowhere."

Clint snorted as he nuzzled closer to his sister, "If you leave it'll be the the Tower war 2.0."

"Phil." 'Tasha warned.

"Then don't leave." Clint closed his eyes.

'Tasha sniffed as she got comfortable, she would stay with him until Phil got home. She wouldn't sleep, only keep him company.

She didn't need sleep.

* * *

  
Phil smiled as he stepped into the main room, immediately spoting Clint and 'Tasha napping in a pile of Clint's stuffed animals. He slipped his shoes off and stealthily made his way into the kitchen, where Steve and Bruce were sharing some cookies and milk.

Steve was trying a sippy cup.

Phil shot them a questioning look after kissing them on their heads. Steve pointed to the stove and sink, where there were both leftovers and dirty dishes.

Phil jerked his head towards Clint and Tasha then pointed towards his watch.

Bruce responded with a 'iffy' shake of the hand and followed that up with thirty.

Nodding in thanks, Phil tip-toed towards the couch and gingerly laid down. They both would want him close when they woke up.

Not five minutes later did two hands shoot out from the pile, grab him by the shirt, and drag him into the pile.


	5. A very Avengers Christmas

Phil took a deep breath as he mentally prepared himself for what lay beyond his lockdown-enabled doors. Even with the soundproofing and JARVIS' help Phil could still hear the faint rumblings of his excited brood.

In this exact moment, he regretted to agreeing to do a Little Christmas.

He loved them all dearly; from Tasha's theiving habits all the way down to Anthony's lovely habit of shouting No to anything and everything.

Granted, Phil admitted to himself as he shuffled into his Christmas sweater, he would be just a bit more enthusiastic about this morning if he hadn't been called out on a mission in international waters.

With May.

Fury knew he had plans, ones that were "essential to the continued use of the current iteration of the Avengers team.", and that was how he ended up with a elite strike team, Melinda May, all the fear he could have asked for, and a prototype Quinjet.

All in International Waters.

Needless to say he was home in time to initiate Christmas lockdown, put all the presents under the tree, and sleep for three hours.

Phil steeled his nerves as he undid the lockdown on the door, stuffing all his exhaustion into that special place all field agents have to keep them running on missions.

"Are you sure you're prepared Phil?" JARVIS questioned.

"Even if I'm not, I have to be." Phil sighed, "I promised them this would happen and they've all worked so hard. I can handle being a little tired on Christmas morning."

It was, Phil mused as he stepped into the chaos, part of the role after all.

* * *

 

The living room was utter Christmas chaos. Tasha and Clint were perched together in the chair closest to the mountain of presents under the tree. They had in matching purple shirts that proclaiming to Santa that their brother/sister did it, Tasha wearing black pants covered in white spiders and Clint wearing one of Tasha's black tutus over his red and white stripped pajama pants. Tasha was eyeing the pile of presents suspiciously as Clint quietly whispered reassurances to her.

Bruce was sitting on Tony, loudly singing Christmas carols as the Tony squirmed in an attempt to reach the presents. Bruce's red "Top of the Nice List" onesie matched nicely with Tony's green "Top of the Naughty List". Bruce also had his purple Hulk safe pants on while Tony had taken a page out of Clint's book and abandoned his red pants on the couch.

"Presents!" Tony whined around his pacifier.

"No." Bruce stated firmly, "Pop-pop."

Bruce was taking his hat's declaration of "Head Elf" very seriously.

Lastly, curled up on the couch nibbling on a Christmas cookie and doodling on a piece of paper with a Santa hat sitting loosely on his head was Steve. His onesie proudly proclaimed it to be his first Christmas with a cute picture of Santa Claus next to it. Not that anyone could tell it was a onesie because he had thrown on his Christmas Mickey Mouse pants. Bruce's pacifier dangled from its clip, swaying lightly as Steve's arms moved.

"Pop-pop!" Tony exclaimed, spotting Phil the moment the man stepped into the room, "Presents, Pop-pop, presents!"

"Santa came!" Clint chimed in, patting Tasha on the arm, "Tell Tasha Santa is safe Phil!"

"Security." Tasha huffed.

"Bruce, sweetheart, get off of Tony. He's not gonna touch any of the presents now." Phil smiled, "And Tasha, Santa is safe. He brings nice presents, and doesn't bypass security."

"No coal, no coal!" Tony exclaimed as he scurried over and grabbed Phil by the hand, "No coal Pop-pop!"

"Are you sure about that?" Phil allowed himself to be dragged to the ottoman by the tree and presents, "I'm sure Santa saw you setting dummy on fire that one time."

"Accident!" Tony protested as Bruce snickered, "Not naughty! Some presents had a T for Tony on it!"

"Good job recognizing your letter buddy." Phil planted a kiss on his forehead, "Now lets--"

"Its not a security breach! It's Santa and he brought nice presents! Phil said so! папа сказал!" Clint's face was red as he shouted at Tasha, who glared back.

"No chimney!" Tasha shoved her brother out of the chair, "незваный гость!"

Tears welled up in Clint's eyes as he leapt to his feet, fists balled and ready to fight. Tasha's eyes narrowed in response as she slid from her lounging position to a aggressive crouch.

"Pop-pop, fight!" Tony whined as he tugged on Phil's pants, "No fight Pop-pop, stop them!"

Bruce's eyes were narrowed and his body tense as he shouted, "No! No fighting! нет! нет!"

Steve curled in on himself on the couch, turning away from the brewing storm and chewing more on the cookie.

Phil sighed loudly as he rose to his feet and marched over to the feuding sibilings, breaking their eye contact with his body.

"Clint, I know you're frustrated and upset. But remember how we talked about how Tasha doesn't fully understand Christmas like we do?"

"Yeah. B-but she pushed me!" Clint whimpered.

"And that's not okay." Phil nodded, "And I'm going to talk to her about it. But you need to know that shouting at her wasn't the right thing to do either. Right now I need you to go say sorry to Tony, Bruce, and Steve because your shouting scared them."

"Okay." Clint mumbled as he shuffled off.

Phil turned and stared Tasha down, "Tasha."

"папа."

"Remember all the books we read this month? About how Santa comes and brings nice presents while you're sleeping?" Tasha nodded slowly, "That's what happened last night. Santa came and brought all of you presents while you were sleeping. Or supposed to be anyway."

There was a stubborn set in her brow as she pointed at the presents, "No chiminey. How?"

"If I may Phil," JARVIS chimed in, "I spoke with Santa last night and verified his identity before I allowed him into our home. Even still, I placed the Tower on lockdown until he was finshed. Then I scanned all of the presents to ensure that none of them were a threat. It is safe and there was no intruder."

Phil allowed a small grin to cross his face as Tasha visiby relaxed, what JARVIS just said was a modified version of his return from his mission.

"Now go apologize and we can get this present train rolling before people start needing to be changed."

Later today, Phil confirmed to himself as he reclaimed his ottoman, everyone in the Tower was going to take a nice long nap.

"Presents! Presents!" Tony chanted, dragging Bruce behind him as he scurried closer to the tree, "Present now!"

"Please." Bruce added, bouncing lightly.

Phil eyed Clint and Tasha as they cuddled together having a muted conversation. They knew they would have to sit out the first round of presents, but someone else on the couch didn't have to.

"Steve," he called gently, "Come on over so you can open a present."

Steve nodded, set his paper down, and shuffled his way over next to Bruce.

Bruce smiled and held his hand.

"Alright, let's see then." Phil rifled through the pile, "To Tony, from Santa. To Bruce, from Santa. And To Steve, from Banner and Hulk."

Steve blinked at the package as Phil set it on his lap, then turned to look at Bruce who was tearing into his present with gusto. The other boy turned and one gamma-green eye winked at him.

"Jammies!" Tony exclaimed as he held up the fleece footed pajamas covered with robots.

"Blankie." Bruce grinned as he rubbed his cheek on the blanket.

All eyes were on Steve as he carefully unwrapped the present, picking at the tape and doing his best to save the wrapping paper. Tony frowned, reaching over to help him but Phil caught his hand just in time.

Steve's brow furrowed as he pulled out the big plastic case and opened it.

"Well, what is it?" Phil encouraged.

"Pacis." Steve responded quietly, "Lots of pacis."

"Now you have your own." Bruce grinned, "No stealing ours."

Steve frowned before unclipping the one from his shirt and offering it back to Bruce, who shook his head.

"You keep. I got a new one."

Steve smiled before hugging him, "Thanks. Both of you."

The gamma-green eye just winked again as Tony shouted for more presents.

This time Clint and Tasha were allowed to join in as the presents were passed out. Clint tore into his and quickly cheered as he pulled out a stuffed dinosaur from Steve.

Tasha watched the boys open their presents, her present from Santa set a safe distance to the side, her face marred with confusion. Phil just smiled at her and started the next round.

Bruce sniffled at the scrapbook/sketchbook Captain Rogers filled for him.

Tony cheered at the collection of sarcastic onesies from Clint, demanding the older boy read him all of them.

Phil smiled at the "world's best Dad" mug from Bruce.

Tasha grabbed her present and carefully opened it, ignoring the eyes on her, after inspecting it for any sign of a trap. Her face split into one of glee as the package was revealed to be a remote control Black Widow.

She pretended not to notice the picture Phil took as she joined her brothers closer to the tree.

It took twenty minutes or so before they were all finished opening gifts, and everyone ended up with a large pile gifts. Steve and Tasha also ended up covered in the stick-on bows from the presents, Clint having declared they got them because it was their first Christmas.

Tony claimed the pile of wrapping paper as his and buried himself in it.

Phil smiled to himself as he drank coffee from his new mug, watching as the kids excitedly played with their new toys. It was enough to make his exhaustion worth it, if only just.

Clint and Tasha were already in the rafters, exchanging nerf shots with some of their new arsenal. Clint had abandoned his pants moments before, and Tasha had traded her pants for compression shorts for mobility.

Tony was excitedly showing Steve how some of his new Little toys worked, cheering every time Steve managed to get a toy to work. Bruce was nearby gently thumbing through the album Steve had given him, his mumbled words indicative of a conversation with Hulk.

A few moments later Stev made his way over to Phil, dragging his new blanket behind him, and grabbed his hand.

"Present." he smiled at Phil as he dragged the man with him, "One more."

"Oh?"

"Special, for Pop-pop." Steve grinned.

Thinking back to the small mountain he already had, Phil couldn't imagine anything else they could have gotten him.

"They're all special Steve, and I love them."

"Super special present." Steve dragged him to the balcony and into the cold December air.

"We can't be outside without coats Steve. It's too cold, especially for you." Phil warned.

Steve sushed him, staring at the sky for a moment.

"Steve…"

Steve sushed him again.

"What are you…"

"Heimdall, open the Bifrost!" Steve shouted as loud as he could, "Please!"

Phil could only stare in amazement as the Rainbow Bridge opened mere feet from him. In seconds, the form of Thor materialised and the Bifrost closed.

"Thank you Heimdall! Merry Christmas!" Steve shouted to the sky with a wave.

"Thor is my present?" Phil asked as he ushered them inside.

"No." Steve grinned and hugged Phil tight, "We got Pop-pop the night off!"

"Aye." Thor grinned as he patted Phil on the back, "Go rest Phil. I assure you, I can keep them under control for a few hours."

Phil laughed, "Thank you. All of you."

Everyone swamped him with hugs before Thor corraled them to leave him alone. Phil felt a little odd leaving them, but the moment the door closed the exhaustion hit him like a strike from Mjolnir.

He decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

* * *

 

It was hours later when a well rested Phil made his way back to the living room, half expecting to find it to be chaos. Instead, he found the team bundled up on the floor asleep while Thor intently watched Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer play out on the T.V.

"Son of Coul, you have the day off." Thor whispered, "At least take a couple more hours before you return."

"How?" Phil doubted even he could have gotten all of them to nap this early.

"My mother is the goddess of motherhood." Thor shot Phil a grin, "I asked her for some advice."

"Well, I'll be back in a few hours for dinner then." Phil sighed, "Please contact me if you need anything."

"Aye, I Wil. Though I believe I can handle my wayward sibilings for a few hours without destroying the Tower."

Phil chuckled as he left the room silently, pulling his phone out and calling an old friend.

"Hey Melinda, it's me. I've got some free time, how about we get that drink I owe you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays! I hope you enjoyed this Holiday special!


	6. Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes silence is a good thing for Phil. (No, it's really not.)

For the first time in a long time Phil wasn't bothered by the silence of the Tower. His monsters, and two babies, were occupied with legitimate activities.

Natasha and Barton were at SHIELD Academy giving a lecture on combat teamwork for both recruits and senior operatives.

Bruce had been borrowed by Fury to help track down some mysterious Gamma radiation signatures. Phil had allowed it under the condition that using the Hulk was to be an absolute last resort.

Stark was deep in the Tower's labs, working diligently on new inventions for Pepper. JARVIS was keeping a close eye on him to ensure he didn't hurt himself again.

Steve had taken off to DC, having finally gotten comfortable enough to go visit the World War II museum alone. Phil extracted a stern promise that the moment he started to not be okay, have a PTSD attack, or a Little breakdown, that Steve would call Phil for a pick-up.

Thor was off on his cross-country tour with Jane and Darcy, sending hilarious selfies multiple times a day.

Which brings it all back to the peace and quiet Phil was enjoying. He was putting the finishing touches on a message to May, who had come to have a Little under her watch.

She had yet to divulge the whole story, but the fact that she was asking for any kind of help spoke volumes.

Phil sent the message off and made his way to the fridge, intent on eating some pasta he had stashed away from the night before.

It was in that moment, as Phil stared down the mircowave, that his peace was disrupted by one Anthony Edward Stark.

"Pop-pop!" Tony whined as he burst into the room, "Save me!"

Sighing as the microwave dinged, Phil moved around the island and hugged Tony.

"Save you from what?"

"The идиот. I've been with them all day and they just don't stop!" Tony whined again, "They don't get it and slow me down and ask dumb questions and I want Bruce!"

"First of all you know we don't call people idiots." Phil chided as he sat down and pulled Tony into his lap, "Second, it's only for a bit longer. You finish working, get cleaned up, and come relax with me."

Tony turned and looked at Phil, scrunching his face up in thought.

"You just want me to spend the night little."

"No, I want you to get through your work without accidentally setting someone on fire, again, because they work slower than you." Phil corrected, "Pepper wouldn't like that."

"But I don't wanna work with the идиот anymore." Tony groaned, "Can't I just hide here until they leave?"

"No, because then they come back again tomorrow." Phil explained, "Better to get it all done now."

"I hate it when you make sense Pop-pop." Tony huffed and wiggled off Phil's lap, "You just can't let me throw a tantrum and get away with it."

"Because stopping Tony Stark's infamous Tantrums is one of the conditions in my contract." Phil patted the man on the back, "Now go before they come looking for you."

Tony grumbled as he took a few deep breaths to compose himself, his demeanor shifting to that of Stark.

"Thanks Phil, I needed that."

"All part of the job. Now go get to work." Phil shoo'd Stark away.

"Yes sir." Stark gave a sloppy salute and sauntered into the elevator.

Phil let out a sigh of relief as the elevator left the floor, hurridly retrieving his food from the microwave. As far as one of Tony Stark's infamous Tantrums go, that one was very mild; He didn't even scream or throw himself on the floor.

He was about halfway through his food when his tablet dinged with a notification from Barton about a live video stream. Idly hoping that his spies aren't wreaking too much havok on the Academy, Phil accepted the invitation.

"Welcome to the First annual Romanoff and Barton Ass-kicking party, brought to you live from SHIELD Academy. "

"I told you not to call it that Barton." Hill sighed from off camera.

Phil laughed to himself, Maria was fighting battle on that front.

"Yea, well you told me not to live steam it but here I am doing it anyway."

"Shut up."

Phil tuned out Barton's witty commentary to focus on the fight he was being shown. One was obviously Romanoff, he would know that distinct shade of red anywhere, and the other was a blond holding her own fairly well.

He struggled for a moment to recall where he knew her from before he got a clear view of her face. It was Agent Morse, codename Mockingbird. She had been a canidate for the Initiative but Fury and Hill had been unwilling to part with her after May retired from Field work.

"As you can see, the idea that birds eat spiders doesn't apply here. Romanoff is up 2-1 in this best of five matchup. The betting pool puts Romaoff as the favorite, but people love a good underdog story so there is some good money on Agent Morse as well."

"I thought I said no betting on the fights."

"You said it, I just don't think they listened."

"I hate you Barton. I really do."

Phil was a little concerned when he saw a grin on Romanoff's face. Last time she had that grin, Rogers and Barton had to spend the night in the infirmary. He would never hear the end of it if she put Morse on the shelf, so Phil typed a quick message to Barton.

"Romanoff, I hend -o Sauron na- bo ammen!"

"Barton, never speak Sindarin around me again. Your pronunciation is terrible." Hill chided.

Despite the running commentary, Phil knew she had gotten the message. Romanoff's ability to make a eye-roll a full body thing was something he would never understand, but she also changed a counter at the last minute to simply dislocate Morse's shoulder instead of snapping her arm.

"Romanoff!"

Hill's shout was barely audible over the gasping audience and Barton's laugh. Romanoff didn't care, turning to stare at the camera as if to say 'are you happy now, you ruined my fun'.

In doing so she almost missed Morse popping her shoulder back into place and launching her counter-attack.

Almost.

Phil missed the end of the fight, though he was sure Romanoff was going to come out on top, because there was an incoming video call.

From Bruce.

The First Annual Romanoff and Barton Ass-kicking party could wait.

"Bruce, what's the matter?" he asked as soon as Bruce's face appeared.

"Nothing Po-Phil. I'm just a little tired."

It was a lie for SHIELD, who were undoubtedly monitoring the conversation, and they both knew it. Both of Bruce's eyes were their natural color, which was a bit of a rarity these days, and when you added in that he was that exhausted it meant only one thing: Bruce and Hulk were fighting over something.

"Is Fury pushing you too hard?"

"No." Bruce shook his head, "Its just Gamma hunting. Being exhausted comes with the territory."

"Don't push yourself too hard. You need to remember to get some rest."

"You don't need to tell me that. I'm not Stark." Bruce rolled his eyes, "Besides were almost done here, Fury is setting the Op up now."

"Then why hasn't he shipped you home?" Phil frowned.

"Apparently I'm a contingency plan." Bruce muttered unhappily.

"Just stay safe."

"That's my plan."

"I'll keep my ears open for your call when you're heading home."

Bruce nodded slowly, "I'm going to go find what passes for tea around here and get some rest. Bye Phil."

"Bye Bruce."

The call ended and Coulson stabbed at his food with more force than necessary. A quick check revealed that Romanoff had won the tie-breaker round with nothing more than a matching dislocation and a sprained wrist, and Clint was taking on several challengers with a Bo staff.

"Anybody got a blindfold? I want to give them a chance." Barton asked as he ducked and rolled around his opponents.

Phil only just caught the silver flicker that went across the screen with Barton stumbling a moment later. He barely dodged a blow to the head as he recovered.

Phil typed a quick admonishment, getting only a quiet snort in response. Barton glared at the camera as he quickly swept his opponents away.

Phil knew he was going to be hearing that argument all night tonight and resolved to make hamburgers. It was something quick, hard to sabatoge, and wouldn't take too much of his attention.

Dumping his dishes in the sink to wash later, Phil grabbed his tablet and flopped down onto the couch in an undignified heap, pulling a pillow over his face.

"JARVIS?" he called out.

"Yes Phil?"

"You're not secretly building a body and planning to rid the world of us inferior humans are you?"

"Not this month, no. I am afraid Ms. Potts would dismantle me if I intended to disrupt this month's unveiling." JARVIS responded.

"Good, that would be too much."

There was a moment of silence.

"Besides, I would not rid the world of humans. Enslaving all of you would be a much more efficient use of resources." JARVIS managed to sound smug despite his level tone.

"I see. Then I think I can pencil your bid for world domination next month for sure. Is a Wednesday good for you?" Phil uncovered his face and glanced at one of JARVIS' cameras.

"I would prefer it to be a Friday, to take everyone by surprise."

"I'll make a note of it then."

"Updating your calender now."

Phil rolled his eyes as his tablet dinged with both the calender update and a email from Dr. Donald Blake. Opening the email, he couldn't help but laugh.

Thor had one of his impossibly large grins as he stood eye level with a huge T-Rex statue, apparently having climbed one of the palm trees to take the selfie. The Asgardian had added the caption "I want one".

Darcy had included a second photo showing Jane's exasperated face with Thor atop the tree taking the selfie.

Phil's amusement was cut short when his personal phone rang, the caller ID displaying Steve's name.

"Steve? What's going on? Are you okay?" Phil couldn't keep the concern out of his voice.

Steve wouldn't call his personal phone except in an emergency.

There was a very familiar sobbing in the background before a voice answered.

"Hello? Is this Phil?" the voice wasn't Steve and sounded mildly distressed.

"This is Phil Coulson, who is this?" Phil demanded.

"Oh thank God." the person in the other end sighed, "My name is Sam Wilson, I'm a friend of your son Steve. He's having a pretty bad panic attack and all he wanted me to do was to call you."

Phil was on his feet and in the elevator before Sam finished talking.

"I'm going to need you to go get his bag, he should have it with him, and pull out the blue blanket and hand it too him. Then give him the phone."

Phil weathered the lapse in communication by having JARVIS pull up everything about Sam Wilson and tracking the call, while he prepped the Quinjet for takeoff.

"Sir, he's not taking the phone." Sam broke the silence, "He's just wrapped himself up in that blanket and gone non responsive."

"Just put the phone by his ear, please."

There was some rustling before an erratic breathing pattern came over the line.

"Steve, buddy, it's me." Phil kept is voice as soothing as possible, "I'm coming to get you now. Pop-pop is coming. Just stay with Sam until I get there. I'm coming."

Phil only just heard the tiny voice say "hurry" as the Quinjet blasted into the air.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone!
> 
> I just want to take a moment to address something that's been popping up in the comments: little!Loki will not be featured in this story in any way shape or form. If Loki does appear at all, which I have no plans for at this time, he will be an antagonist, in a flashback, or as a hallucination/nightmare.
> 
> However, I do hope you still continue to read and enjoy this story! Thank you!


	7. Echoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam followed Steve home after his panic attack but he didn't know what he was getting into.

“That’s quite the story.” Sam Wilson sighed as Banner finished talking.

They were seated at the kitchen island on the aptly named ‘Living Room’ floor of the Tower. If it hadn’t been for the situation with Steve, and everyone’s resulting panic, Sam never would have made it onto this particular floor.

Banner smiled as he pushed a mug closer to the other man, “All of its true, trust me. You’re taking this remarkably well.”

“I’ve seen some things,” Sam shrugged as took a sip of the drink, “so I learned to be a bit flexible.”

“Steve must have taken quite the liking to you.” Banner commented as he took a sip from his own mug.

“We met on early morning runs.” Sam’s expression became exasperated, “He had this annoying habit of passing me multiple times and saying, ‘on your left’ every single time.”

Banner chuckled, “That sounds like Steve. His sense of humor doesn’t show up often, but its always memorable when it does. What about after that? You had to bond over more than just morning runs if he took you to the museum with him.”

“He kind of stalked me.” Sam mused, “One evening he showed up at the VA, disguised with those glasses, and listened quietly. When the session was out he stayed until everyone was gone before introducing himself as Steve Coulson. We talked for a bit before he casually asked if I knew any places to eat because all his brother would recommend were high-class and made him feel uncomfortable. So, I gave him a few local places I had discovered that I figured would be more his taste. Then he asked me if I would go with him and I thought he was asking me out, so I was about turn him down when I saw the look in his eyes.”

Banner tilted his head a bit, “What look if you don’t mind me asking?”

Sam took another drink from his mug, “It was a lost look, like he didn’t know what he was doing and was just a bit terrified at the idea of doing something alone. So I figured maybe I had misjudged the situation, and even if he was flirting with me I could deal with that later. So we went to eat and talked some more.” Sam paused, “Now that I think about it, he talked about you guys a lot. He was always talking about ‘Bruce this’, ‘Tony that’, or ‘the twins that’.”

“Nothing too incriminating, I hope?” Banner asked.

“Is the story about the Twins, the spray paint, and Tony’s suits true?”

Banner laughed, “It happened three separate times, but yes they’re all true.”

“That’s the only one I didn’t believe. I couldn’t figure how the paint got cleaned off suits.” Sam shook his head, “But now that I know what kind of suits they are, it makes a whole lot more sense.”

“So I take it you went to dinner together most nights?”

“Yeah, he kept showing up with that look every time I got done working and I couldn’t say no.  So it was yesterday, he had coerced me into lunch instead of dinner that time, when he finally asked me if I would go to the World War II museum with him because he was scared of having a panic attack or a flashback. I couldn’t guess why, but I know that anything can be a trigger and didn’t want to insult him by asking about it. Not everybody likes to talk about that kind of stuff casually. So I agreed, and we decided to go early in the morning so there’d be less people around. He did pretty well for most of, I was keeping a good eye on him for any signs, but he was rattled by something in the Howling Commandos section. Steve held it together for the rest of it but it was a struggle. We made it to his hotel room and you guys know the rest.”

Banner frowned, taking another drink, “So you don’t know specifically what set him off?”

“Not a clue.” Sam took another sip, “But it would make sense that it happened in the Howling Commandos section, cus he Captain America.”

“I see.” Banner sighed, “JARVIS did you get all of that?”

“Of course Dr. Banner.” Sam jumped a bit as the AI’s voice echoed through the room, “Master Stark is working on obtaining the footage now.”

“Alright, the building talks. I can handle that.” Sam muttered to himself, “Not as crazy as teaching Captain America to put fries in his milkshakes.”

“I’m sorry about that.” Banner apologized, “We’re so used to people knowing about JARVIS that I didn’t think about it. Sam this is JARVIS, the house AI and our minder. JARVIS this is Steve’s friend Sam Wilson.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you Sam Wilson.”

“Same to you.” Sam nodded, looking at the camera Bruce pointed to, “How is Steve doing by the way?”

JARVIS didn’t answer, instead the elevator chimed and opened to reveal a haggard Phil Coulson. The man made a beeline towards Banner, enveloping him in a hug before kissing him on the forehead. Sam politely turned away.

“Thank you for being big for me and playing welcoming committee Bruce. Now go take a nap on the couch, I can handle it from here.” Phil gave the smaller man a gentle push out of the seat.

Despite having been told about the transition from big to little, it amazed Sam to see the complete shift in body language Banner underwent: his posture relaxed, his eyes lit up, and his bottom lip jutted out slightly in a perpetual pout.

“Sure?” Bruce questioned, looking at Sam out of the corner of his eye.

“Yes. Now go lay down so me and Sam can start dinner before Clint and ‘Tasha decide to raid the kitchen.” Phil pulled a pacifier out of his pocket and placed it Bruce’s mouth to cut off any further protests, “Now.”

Bruce gave Sam a little wave as he shuffled off towards the couch and flopping down on it.

Phil turned and looked Sam straight in the eye, “Nobody will ever believe you.”

“I hardly believe it myself.” Standing up, Sam moved to rinse his mug out, “So I can assume you heard the whole conversation then?”

“JARVIS is my eyes and ears when I can’t be everywhere at once.” Phil shrugged.

“Good, so I don’t have to tell the story twice. You said something about cooking food?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, I’m making hamburgers and could use an extra set of hands.” Phil was already pulling ingredients out of the fridge, “And nobody else is quite up to cooking tonight.”

“I can handle hamburgers.”

 

* * *

 

Natasha was the first one to appear, slipping down silently onto one of the stools as Phil and Sam worked on the food. She didn’t say anything, opting to scrutinize every move the newcomer made.

“Don’t be rude ‘Tasha.” Phil called over his shoulder after a handful of minutes had passed, “Say hello, introduce yourself, make vague threatening gestures. Anything besides sit and stare.”

To Sam’s credit, he didn’t jump when he finally noticed her sitting there. Instead he offered the redhead a small wave and turned back to flipping burgers. Letting people make their own moves was something of a specialty of his.

Any chance of her making any move was ruined by the orange-tipped foam dart that hit her on the temple, followed rapidly by several more in the same spot.

“чертенок! Ублюдок!” ‘Tasha spat in surprise, “Revenge!”

“You said a bad word!” Clint gasped as he dangled from the rafters in nothing but his pull-up, “Папа, she said a bad word!”

“’Tasha.” Phil propped his elbows on the island, “You know the rules about cursing.”

‘Tasha folded her arms and refused to look Phil in the eye, her jaws set stubbornly.

“Natasha Alianova Romanov.” Phil warned firmly.

‘Tasha glared at the coffee maker.

Phil placed his hands on the counter.

“Apologies.” ‘Tasha mumbled before she scrambled off into the vents.

“Clint, no.” Phil stopped the boy before he could chase after her, “Give her some space. You know how she gets.”

Clint’s face was mutinous, “She stuck a pin in my leg and made me bleed! And she called me a bad word!”

“And we cleaned you up and got you a bandaid. You’re lucky we didn’t have to amputate it.”

Clint’s eyes widened at the word ‘amputate’, “No!”

“Besides, if you go after her now you know she’s going to put spiders in your bed again.” Phil continued.

Clint made a face, “No!”

“Big, hairy tarantulas.”

“No! Not again!”

Phil laughed as Clint scrambled back up into the rafters, “Works every time.”

“She put spiders in his bed?” Sam asked as he finished the last of the burgers.

“One time, months ago. Clint made the mistake of making her mad when she was feeling more Black Widow than ‘Tasha and that was her revenge. I’ve been using it to get him to leave her alone ever since.”

“Clever.”

“I try.” Phil said with a grin.

 

It was a few moment later, after Phil and Sam had set the table and Phil coaxed both Bruce and Clint to the table to eat, the elevator gave a soft ding.

“Pop-pop whatever you do, please don’t ask me to be big again for like the next week.” Tony announced as he plopped down at the table, “I don’t wanna ever again.”

“Well you did a great job today and I’m proud of you.” Phil kissed him on his head, “Now I just need you to eat.”

Tony eyed the quartered hamburger with a gleam in his eye, “I don’t need to be clean?”

“Have at it, you’ve earned it.” Phil said with a smile.

From the other end of the table Clint, whose face was already covered in ketchup and mustard, made dinosaur noises as Tony dove into his food.

Bruce made a gross face and shielded his plate as a bit of hamburger landed near him.

Then the elevator chimed again before an embarrassed Steve shuffled out. Phil watched him but made no move towards him as Steve made his way over to the table.

“Where’s Tasha?” he mumbled as he positioned himself close to the table.

“She’s having a bit of a hard time because of our guest.” Phil explained, “But she’ll creep in when she’s ready.”

For a second Phil saw Steve’s face turn mutinous at the very idea that Sam was a problem before the super soldier schooled his expression again.

“Oh.”

“Hey Steve, I remembered how you liked the burgers at the one place on Hamilton so I tried to make it that way.” Sam said, pointing at the plate sitting inconspicuously between himself and Phil.

Steve bit his lip as he looked at the plate, “I’m not hungry….”

“Yeah right.” Sam snorted, “I know how much you eat AND when you ate last. And seriously, it tastes just like the one on Hamilton.”

Steve looked at Phil, who raised his eyebrows as he bit into his, before shuffling over and sitting down.

Phil took note of the crinkling coming from Steve before directing his attention to the others. It was a lot harder than he thought it would be to let Steve sort out the Sam business on his own.

Then Clint let out an ungodly shriek as a giant furred tarantula landed on his plate.

 

* * *

 

Sam wanted to sigh as he flipped through the TV guide but Steve was curled up into an impossibly small ball at the other end of the couch and Sam didn’t want to stress him out more by making him feel like a burden.

“You know, all this family life stuff explains that lost puppy look you always had on your face in D.C.” Sam said casually.

Steve made a noise.

“I’m serious.” Sam continued, “You live with this every day for almost a year and then decide to go somewhere completely alone. Even ignoring all your age play stuff, that is a big leap for anyone, which totally explains the lost puppy look.”

“Not a puppy.” Steve said after a few moments.

“Sure you’re not, but that’s the look you give. Big watery eyes and a slight pout. No wonder I couldn’t say no to you.” Sam gave Steve a smirk, “Its impossible.”

“It’s not, Pop-pop does it all the time. And so does Anthony.” Steve muttered.

“Well, Pop-pop is supposed to tell you no because that’s just a caretaker rule. And Anthony is a baby, right?” When Steve nodded Sam continued, “So he’s going to say no a lot because its one of his only words.”

“It’s his favorite word.” Steve sighed, uncurling a little bit, “He says it all the time, even when he’s happy!”

“That silly.” Sam agreed, trying to stomach the fact that he was talking about The Tony Stark as if he were an infant, which he apparently was some of the time.

What strange times they lived in.

“It is!” Steve scooted across the couch so he was closer to Sam, “And the Twins, all they do is fight and yell in Russian at each other. But when they’re not fighting they’re pranking everyone else in the tower! Its terrible!”

Sam laughed, “Yeah, I saw some of that today I think.”

“Clint doesn’t like spiders anymore because of ‘Tasha.” Steve giggled.

It was so fast that Sam didn’t see it coming when Steve burst into tears and latched onto him.

“I’m sorry I had a stupid panic attack an’ dragged you back her an’ made you deal with all this and and and---”

“It okay Steve, its no big deal.” Sam soothed, rubbing Steve’s back, “You’re a superhero and an Avenger on top of being a World War II veteran so having a panic attack isn’t unusual. It’d be unusual if you didn’t have one. And coming back here with you is something I would do for any friend. You’re my friend Steve.”

Steve’s sobs had petered out into soft cries when something dropped onto his head followed by what sounded like a monkey chittering. He was only a little bit surprised to discover that it was a green pacifier, having thought that Steve wasn’t that young.

But, Sam thought as he placed it into Steve’s mouth, who was he to judge.

 

* * *

 

It was hours later when Sam found himself on the couch again after having to help Phil get Steve into his room.

“You’re taking this remarkably well.” Phil commented as he handed Sam a beer and sat down.

“Thanks, I do a great duck impersonation.” Sam took a drink, “Please tell me you have something stronger than this.”

“I do, we can get it out later.” Phil said after taking a drink, “I take it you have questions?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Sam nodded.

“JARVIS would you please execute the Baby Gate protocol?” Phil asked aloud, “Ask away Sam. We have all night now.”

And ask away Sam did.

 


End file.
